Breaking a Promise
by Rointheta
Summary: For a long moment, Rose hears nothing but the uneven pounding of the rain against the wall and the whispers of fabric against fabric. It soothes her into a not-quite-sleep and, had she still possessed any energy, she would've jumped at the loud whack and hiss breaking the backdrop of lulling sounds. Now she only opens her eyes, smiling at the Doctor sitting down beside her.


**Prompt: **jail cell + blackout + umbrella  
**betas:** resile & crazygirlne

* * *

**BREAKING A PROMISE**

* * *

For a long moment, Rose hears nothing but the uneven pounding of the rain against the wall and the whispers of fabric against fabric. It soothes her into a not-quite-sleep and, had she still possessed any energy, she would've jumped at the loud whack and hiss breaking the backdrop of lulling sounds. Now she only opens her eyes, smiling at the Doctor sitting down beside her.

"I killed it," he says, taking her hand.

"That's good. With what?"

"Not kindness, that's for sure."

She curls her fingers around his. "Are there more?"

"No. Shouldn't be. They live most of their adult life alone. And I don't think…" He looks around the murky cell. "Well. If we can't get out, they can't get in."

"Yeah."

She stares at the stone ceiling, following one of the cracks until it forks into three more. It rattles, and rain pours down on her in sprinkles and powdered sugar. She crinkles her nose, sneezes and coughs and lifts her arm to clean her face. But the Doctor brushes the dry droplets off her face with tender fingers before she reaches farther than her chest.

"Where's the umbrella? The rain is weird. All dusty. Can you put the umbrella over my head?"

"Rose, it's not rain."

"Yeah, it is. I can hear it. And we… When we walked. Earlier? It rained."

"No. It's not…" He quiets, licks his lips. "They're digging. They're digging us out from the tunnel, remember? It's not rain. It's pick axes. And dust and pebbles and–"

"Tunnel? Wasn't this a jail cell?"

"No. We're in an underground tunnel."

"No. Jail cell. After we walked under the umbrella. The umbrella with the handle. Question mark… You said– Rainy planet."

"Right." He smiles, eyes shining. "Yes. We're in a jail cell."

"I'm cold."

"Oh, sorry. I should've–" He shrugs off his suit jacket and drapes it over her body, then finds her hand again. "Better?"

"A little."

Low on the wall, she sees a porthole so narrow she could barely fit her arm into it, but the pale yellow light shining through it is dimming. They materialised earlier this morning, took a stroll in the rain under his questionmark-handled umbrella, and met a group of rebels who needed their help thwarting an evil empress. It landed them in jail, they tried to escape around noon – and the rest of the day muddles together. It shouldn't darken already, should it?

"Is it evening already?"

"Hm?"

"It's getting dark."

He pauses, hand stiff around hers. "Yes. It's evening."

"Can't see a thing." She chuckles. "You can see anyway, though, yeah?"

"Yes."

Rose furrows her brow, thinking back so hard that pain pierces through her temples. They returned to the TARDIS, didn't they? Then landed on a mining colony the next day. Her ankle stung earlier, pain shooting up through her calf, spiraling from her kneecap and hitting her in her belly. It radiated out into every limb until it subsided and left her chilled and lax. Right. Her chest tightens, a lump forming in her throat, and she shifts her grip to twine her fingers with his.

"How long until I–"

"Long." He squeezes her hand. "So, so long."

"Liar."

"They're on their way, Rose. Listen," he says and she cocks her ears. "Can you hear that? They–"

"The rain. It's raining."

He swallows. "Yes."

"I can't feel my toes. Doesn't hurt, though. Nothing hurts. Just feel cold."

"I'll-I'll hold you. Can I hold you?"

She grins. "You better."

He slides an arm under her and lifts her onto his lap, cradling her back and tucking her head under his chin. She breathes him in, nose pressed against the freckle peeking out above his open collar. No tie today. She hums. Tea-and-honey, rock dust, sweat, and soap. Typical Doctor.

"You were gonna take me to so many pla–"

"And I will. I will."

"Liar."

"No, I will! Barcelona, remember? I'll take you there."

"No, you won't. I'm not sure I even believe it exists. Dogs with no noses. You were just trying to make me laugh 'cause you were regenerating."

"I will take you to Barcelona, Rose Tyler."

Her name comes out in an uneven whisper and that scares her more than the fact that she no longer can feel her legs. Her bum will be next. Then her stomach, her arms, her hands… Oh. Who's gonna hold his hand now?

"You. You are."

He holds her closer and she realises she voiced her worry. Before, the heat would've rushed to her face at that, but now her blood slithers like syrup in her veins, too slow to warm anything.

"Doctor? You'll take me home, yeah? Mum… She– Oh, mum… She's gonna be all alone."

His chest stills for a beat, then trembles against her ear when he inhales. "We'll go see Jackie after this. We will. You and me. The Doctor and Rose. We can even stay for a while, hm? How's that? Would you like that? A week maybe." He brushes his fingertips over her cheek. "A holiday."

"You wanna take a holiday at the Estate? Oh, now I know I'm dy–"

"Shh. Please don't. Don't." Shaky fingers caress her cheek. "We can watch telly, eh? You always complain about us not having a telly on board. A whole week of telly–"

"It's gonna be okay, Doctor. It's gonna be…" She frowns, trying to shift in his arms, but none of her limbs obey. "It's not long now, is it?"

"Please hold on. Please." His nose presses against her forehead, lips ghosting over her skin as the words tumble out of him in a rushed whisper. "Please. They have the antidote. They're digging us out. You just need to hold on. Fight it. Fight it, Rose. Please fight it."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. You can do anything. Nothing's impossible for Rose Tyler."

"I'm sorry," she says, chest constricting and lips starting to grow numb. "I didn't mean to get bitten. Didn't mean to leave you."

"And you won't. You won't."

"I'm sorry."

"Rose, stay. Please stay."

"Promise that you'll tell mum. Promise."

"No. No no no no. Stay, please stay. Rose, please–"

"Doctor…"

The breath wheezes out of her and her lips stop moving. She can't feel him holding her any longer, can't see anything but black, can't smell his scent, but she can hear. The words stumble over one another and make no sense to her, but she can tell from his tone that he's pleading and bargaining, even ordering. Then, amidst the nonsense, his voice brightens with hope when he tells her that he can see the walls crumbling to reveal light streaming from the miners' lanterns. She can see it too, right there in front of her, beckoning her to step closer. She tries to tell him, but her body doesn't belong to her any more.

She rises like a feather lifted by a gust of wind and carried into a welcoming warmth. Sinking into a sea of light, she smiles as it washes calm and happiness over her. She's free. 

* * *

**.**

* * *

The TARDIS groans into solid form in Jackie's living room. She smiles, turns down the volume on the telly and stands up, preparing herself for Rose to burst out of the box and babble about their latest adventure and give her mum another trinket for her growing collection. When the Doctor appears, sallow, dirty, and hollow-eyed, Jackie's smile dies.

"No." She shakes her head, breaths coming in a ragged staccato. "No. No-no-no-no."

He shakes his head as well, holding up a hand. "She's… She's fighting it."

"Oh." Jackie's knees give way and she collapses on the sofa, clutching at her chest. "Oh, lord, you scared me."

"But–"

"No but!" She fixes him with a stubborn look. "No! She's not gonna– Not my little girl. Where is she? Where–"

He jerks his head back and turns around. She springs up from the sofa, jogging to keep up with the brisk steps carrying him through the console room, a short corridor, and into the bright sickbay. The tears brimming in her eyes break off the light, blurring her vision. She blinks until it clears, then she squeaks out a sob. Rose, ashen and white-lipped, lies on a hospital bed, body tucked under a soft, yellow blanket, except the arm connected to the drip. A machine stands by the head side, but Jackie can't see it attached to anything. She hesitates, stretching her hand out.

"Can I?" she whispers. At the Doctor's nod, she rushes to her daughter and sits down on one of the two chairs already standing by the bed. She takes Rose's clammy hand, rubbing the back of it with her thumbs. "Hi, sweetheart. Mummy's here." She pauses, asking over her shoulder, "Can she hear me?"

"Yes. She– See that?" He points at a monitor displaying several squiggly lines in different colors. "The green one. She reacts when we talk. When someone she– She knows you're here. She just can't control her body right now."

"How long has she...?"

"Two days."

Jackie gasps, turning to face him so she can use the gulp of air for a proper scolding for not bringing her daughter back to her straight away, but his crestfallen demeanour mollifies her. Tilting her head to the side, she gives him a comforting smile and pats the empty seat beside her.

"Sit down, sweetheart. Tell me what happened."

He swallows, nods and sits down, rubbing his fingers together before clasping his hands in his lap.

"We were helping a group of miners with…" He frowns, flapping his hand to dismiss his explanation before he's even started. "The tunnel collapsed on us. We were trapped at a dead end. There was a– Well, Rose said it looked like a lizard and a bat had a baby, and it… Her ankle. Before I– I killed it, but…"

Jackie rises and lifts the blanket off Rose's feet and calves. A purple bruise surrounding two puncture marks covers her left ankle. Jackie's stomach turns and she has to close her eyes and turn away her head, tucking the blanket back without looking before sitting down.

"Will she–" She clears her throat. "Will she be able to walk?"

"Oh, no-no, her leg is fine, Jackie. That looks worse than it is. It's just a bruise. That's not–" He exhales, then sucks in a deep breath and speaks in a rush. "It works quickly. The venom. Starts with blackouts. She started… She didn't remember. Mixed up the days. Then her body began shutting down. She wasn't in any pain. She was calm. Then…" His Adam's apple bobs, jaw clenched hard. "Just as they were breaking through, she– One minute and thirteen seconds. But then they were through and I gave her the shot and it kickstarted her system, but she wasn't stable. I've–" He releases a shuddering breath. "I've done everything I can. Took me two days to-to get her stable enough to move the TARDIS. Came straight here. She wanted…" He nods for a while, moves his head in tiny jerks, whilst staring at Rose's waxen face. "She mentioned you. She–"

Rose mumbles something indiscernible and a shiver runs through her body, fingers clutching Jackie's hand before going lax again. Jackie turns her attention back to the Doctor to ask him to go on with his story, but he has locked his glassy eyes on her daughter, face more open and vulnerable than she's ever seen. He doesn't show any sign of noticing Jackie watching him, and she takes in his dishevelled appearance: the dust covering his suit and hair, the dirt smeared on his stubbled cheeks and chin, and his muddy trainers. Only his hands are clean.

"Go take a shower, sweetheart," she says, patting him on the knee. "Then I'll make you something to eat."

He jolts, staring at her as though she appeared out of thin air. "What?"

"Look at you! Looks like you've rolled around in a hoover bag, for goodness' sake. Have you even eaten? Slept? Had anything to drink?"

"What's that got to do with anything? I…" He sputters for a second, then frowns and thrusts out his arm. "How can you even think of food and-and sleep when–"

"How are you supposed to care for my daughter if you can't even take care of yourself?"

"Oh, I'm fine. I–"

"Oh, shut it will, you? Go take a shower and I'll cook you something. Make you a cuppa. Then, after you've eaten you can go to–"

"She might not wake up!" The words rush out of him and he snaps his mouth shut, eyes closing for a beat.

Jackie's chin trembles, tears stinging her eyes, but she blinks away the moisture before he opens his. He looks calmer now, detached almost, and she tampers down the fear threatening to burst out of her in a keening sob.

"If… After the antidote has been administered, she has seven days, Jackie. And if there's no change… It's been two days, what if–"

"Even more reason, then, isn't it?" She stands up and puts her hands on her hips, levelling him with a steady look. "Now, get your bum into the shower and I'll go to the kitchen and make us a couple of nice ham sandwiches and a thermos of tea."

His mouth drops open as though he's going to protest, but then understanding flickers in his eyes, softening his gaze, and he nods.

"Food first. I'll stay here until you come back. One of us should be with her at all times. And you can use our-our kitchen." He nods at a door to their right. "Through there." 

* * *

**.**

* * *

They eat in silence. Jackie washes down the paper-tasting mass with tea she forgot to sweeten. He usually takes four tablespoons of sugar in his, but he doesn't react to the bitterness at all. Afterwards, he brushes crumbs off his suit and stands up, lingering there for a moment and resting his fingertips on Rose's arm. Then he mumbles something about showering and ducks through another door. Jackie didn't see it before, but doors don't just pop up by magic, so she dismisses it as her not being at her most observant.

When he returns she starts nagging at him to rest. She even suggests that he curls up next to Rose, since he's so reluctant to leave her, but he prattles for a long while about sensors in the mattress and that. Jackie throws her hands up and stops listening. A gurney stands in the opposite end of the room and she rolls it over to Rose's bed, then orders him to lie down.

"Just a kip," she says when he hesitates, "the machine will wake you up, won't it? In case..."

"Yes."

"I'll need to sleep sooner or later. And I won't get much rest if I have to worry about you as well, I won't." She softens her voice, leaning a little closer. "Rose needs you to be at your best, and Doctor? Right now you're not."

He averts his eyes, but nods and, with a heavy sigh, slips out of his suit jacket, lying down in bed on his side, facing Rose. He grabs the hand Jackie's not holding, weaving his fingers together with Rose's, and closes his eyes. Ten minutes pass, then the worry lines in his face smooth out with sleep.

* * *

**.**

* * *

Most of the time they sit in the sickbay together and only stay with Rose in shifts when one has to sleep. They eat in there – always sandwiches and tea, because everything else takes too long to make – and the dirty dishes always just _disappear_. Jackie ignores it. She doesn't want to know how it happens.

Rose's state remains unchanged. Her lips and cheeks stay white, the squiggly lines move in the same pattern. The Doctor shows Jackie how to take care of the catheter, and they work together to turn Rose every two hours and, once a day, lift her over to a shower gurney and roll her into the bath. He excuses himself then but hovers outside, ready to help if needed.

They chat a little. He doesn't talk more about what happened, but shares stories about other adventures. Now and then he trails off and disappears into his own world, face growing even more haunted. Her thoughts wander then, painting images of him doing all this alone for two days. It makes her shudder, makes her mind block out the mental pictures, and she starts to babble. Everything she can think of about Rose's childhood, every cute little story of precocious things said or done, and for the first time since he showed up in her flat, his eyes brighten with a smile.

* * *

**.**

* * *

On the sixth night, Jackie tosses and turns for a long while. The Doctor offers her something to help her relax, but she declines and rolls over on her back, using the sleep exercise she learned after Pete passed away. Never did she think she would have to use it again. Her body grows heavy, her mind quiets and she dreams about when Rose was a baby, of waking up in the wee hours to change a nappy or give her the breast.

Then whispers wake Jackie up. She blinks her eyes open, waiting for them to adjust to the dim room.

The Doctor sits by Rose's bed, clutching her hand and pressing his forehead to her temple.

"Please wake up," he whispers in a broken voice. "Please, Rose. Just _wake up_. Come back to me. Please."

He keeps pleading, English transforming into a melodic language Jackie's never heard before. Tears well up in her eyes, and she clenches them shut and bites her tongue hard to prevent herself from screaming. When she opens them again, he's left the room. She never even heard him move.

She gets up, kisses her daughter's forehead and takes a moment of pleading herself. Rose's eyes move under closed lids, her forehead crinkles and her lips twitch, but that's nothing new. It's not a coma, the Doctor says, just a deep, feverish sleep. Jackie kisses her daughter's forehead again, presses her lips to the cool skin over and over, then walks through the door to the kitchen.

He sits at the table surrounded by broken plates and glasses. Appliances litter the floor with bits and bobs scattered around them. Blood stains his hands and shirt, his hair is a right mess and he stares in front of him without seeing. Her heart clenches, fresh tears forming in her eyes, and she squeezes his shoulders and tells him to go and change. She'll clean up the mess. It takes him a full minute to react, but he gives her a grateful smile that doesn't light up his dark eyes, and leaves the room.

When she returns to the sickbay he sits in his chair, new shirt on, and she can't see any cuts on his hands, only fresh pink scars.

She shudders. Sometimes it's so easy to forget that he's an alien.

"Doctor?"

He doesn't move.

"There's still time. There's…"

He looks like a wax figure, face smooth, pasty and passive, and eyes dead and locked on a spot on the opposite wall. She doesn't notice that she's shaking her head until her messy ponytail loosens, wisps of hair falling to frame her face.

"You can't give up!" Her voice rings in the quiet room, but by the looks of it, he's not hearing her. "Don't you _dare_ give up on her. There's still time! Look at them squiggly lines! Look at them. For the love of–" She frowns, staring at the yellow one forming a bigger pattern, bouncing up and down. "Doctor? Something's changed. Something–"

"What?"

His head snaps to her, then he shoots up on his feet, slips on his specs and inspects the monitor. He staggers back, sucking in a ragged breath, eyes round and glossy, jaw slack. Moving closer to the bed, he cradles Rose's face and presses his lips to her cheek before darting out of the room. Jackie takes a couple of steps after him, mouth open and ready to holler, but her instincts tell her to turn around. Rose's eyelids flutter.

"Rose?" Jackie rushes back to her daughter. "Rose? Are you–"

Her eyes open fully but don't focus on anything. Jackie takes her hand, stroking it, squeezing it.

"Oh, sweetheart." She smiles through her tears.

"Mum?" Rose croaks out the word, tongue touching her dry lips.

"I'm here, love. I'm here," Jackie says, glancing at the sink and the empty teacups on the counter. Can she give Rose water? The Doctor never said anything about that. "Rose, do–"

"Where's the Doctor?"

"He's...in the loo."

Rose makes a noise that only slightly resembles a snort. "Brilliant timing, Time…" She exhales, eyes drifting closed and face smoothing out.

"Sweetheart?" Jackie's heart hammers in her chest. "What– Rose?"

"It's normal."

Jackie jumps and presses her hand to her chest at the sound of the Doctor speaking. Bloody sneaky alien.

"Don't worry, Jackie," he says and his voice is calm and warm, soothing her. "She won't have enough energy to be awake more than short moment at a time in the beginning. But..." He smiles, eyes sparkling. "She'll be fine." 

* * *

**.**

* * *

Jackie stays on board for days, keeps up a similar schedule to the one they had before Rose woke up. She still needs plenty of help and has yet to leave the sickbay. Sometimes, when she sleeps, Jackie and the Doctor eat in the galley instead. He's set up her telly there and fiddled at it with his sonic screwdriver so she can watch _Eastenders_ no matter the hour. They've combined their cupboards, fridges, and freezers to avoid having to run down to the shop, and now the only sweets left are three packets of alien chocolate biscuits.

The Doctor places several on a plate whilst she pours the tea. She's always had a sweet-tooth and her mouth waters when she watches him stuff his face. Halfway through the show, she can't control herself any more and, alien or not, she grabs a biscuit and takes a deep sniff. It smells completely normal.

"Rose loves them," he says, eyes on the telly. "Eats them all the time."

Jackie takes an itsy-bitsy bite and chews it with her front teeth. Her eyebrows shoot up. It tastes fine – good even. She takes another bite, bigger this time, and can't help but let out a pleased noise. The flavours are rich and the crisp crust contains a chewy centre and it might very well be one of the best biscuits she's ever eaten.

"Can't believe you don't have a telly!" she says, nicking another chocolate biscuit from the plate.

"We have all of time and space at our fingertips and you expect us to sit at home and watch telly?"

"Dunno, nice to unwind in front of it, don't you reckon?"

He lets out a sigh, but it sounds thoughtful rather than exasperated. "I suppose."

"Don't you ever just wanna watch a film?"

"Of course! I love film. Brilliant invention, that. But if we do, I take Rose to the cinema. You know," he smiles, "since we have all the cinemas in all of time and space at our disposal."

"And how many times do you actually watch the whole thing without any disaster interrupting you?"

"Ah. Yes. Well…" He tugs at his ear, eyes directed at the ceiling. "Suppose it wouldn't be an entirely bad idea to get a telly. I did promise Rose we'd watch telly for a whole week, if she got better, and buying a TV, that's even better, isn't it? Then we don't even have to stay with…" He trails off, eyes widening, then his smile stretches out from ear to ear and crinkles threaten to overtake his whole face. "Right! Splendid idea, Jackie Tyler. Telly it is."

She narrows her eyes at him, but holds her tongue and they watch the rest of the episode in silence.

"You know," he says once the credits roll, "reckon we can take her out for a stroll tomorrow. I've got a wheelchair. For when she gets tired."

"That sounds lovely. Sun on her face and all. It'll do her some good, it will." 

* * *

**.**

* * *

They take Rose to the small park close to the Estate every day. Whilst there she kicks off her shoes, gets up on her feet and walks barefoot on the soft grass. Her knees wobble and she supports herself on the Doctor's arm, shooting him besotted glances he only returns once her back is turned to him. Jackie laps at an ice cream cone and observes the two without a word. Since the regeneration, she never quite believed her daughter's claim of 'we're not like that'. She does now and it brings a pang to her chest. She thinks about Pete and lost love and bides her time – or maybe gathers her courage.

Soon Rose regains her strength and walks all the way to the park and home again all on her own and Jackie prepares herself for goodbye. 

* * *

**.**

* * *

Even though Rose doesn't need constant help any more, Jackie stays on board. They play board games during the days and watch telly in the evenings – with Rose resting her head on the Doctor's shoulder, snuggling close – and at night Jackie goes to sleep in the extra bed in the sickbay. Despite herself, she even grows fond of the time ship's gentle singing and lets it lull her to sleep. On the eve of their departure, however, it doesn't work.

After tossing and turning for an hour, Jackie goes to the kitchen for a cuppa and late night telly and finds, to her surprise, the Doctor already sitting there with a cuppa of his own, watching an old film. He gives her a smile but returns his attention to the telly right away.

"Told you you'd like it. And Rose certainly has."

He hums and dips his biscuit into the tea.

She makes herself a cup, grabs an apple from a fruit bowl Rose found in one of Jackie's cupboards and brought on board back when he wore leather. On the table lies a table runner from her mother's childhood home, on a hook on the wall next to the counter hangs a tea cosy Jackie knitted when pregnant, and on the windowsill of the fake window stand three flower pots Rose nicked from Jackie's kitchen. Everywhere Jackie looks, she finds little touches of Rose Tyler, even though Jackie remembers, quite clearly, how he once told Rose she wasn't allowed to make the TARDIS domestic. Jackie pauses by the counter and, biting her lip, considers him for a moment.

"Trying to burn a hole in my neck?" he asks without turning around.

"No." She sits down beside him, stirring her tea. "I was just thinking."

"Yes, I gathered."

"I was thinking about Rose. And of you."

"Ah."

"Do you love her?" Jackie asks, but he doesn't reply. "Reckon you do. No. I know you do. But she doesn't know, does she? Not really."

She waits, watching his profile, the way he holds his head high and keeps his mouth shut.

"I don't know what you aliens do. Maybe you don't kiss or maybe you don't even fit."

He turns to her then, left eyebrow arched. "You asking me to seduce your daughter, Jacqueline?" he says, over-pronouncing her name.

"No," she tilts her chin up and looks him straight in the eye. "I'm asking you to make her happy."

He holds her gaze for a beat, but she can't read him at all. "It's late," he says and turns back to the telly. "You should sleep."

Jackie empties her cup, washes it and pats the Doctor on the shoulder when she walks past him towards the door leading to the sickbay. "You promised me something once. To always bring her back home."

"I remember."

"And where is home, Doctor?"

He knits his brow. "What?"

"It's not the flat. It's not with me. Not anymore. You know what I mean?"

"Good night, Jackie."

She nods, sighs, and leaves the room. 

* * *

**.**

* * *

"Honestly," Rose says, hands on her hips, and surveys the grassy hill overlooking a vast, emerald green ocean. "After all that talk about dogs with no noses, would it have killed you to actually take me somewhere they have dogs?"

The Doctor tuts and shrugs off his coat, spreading it over the yellow grass. "Rose Tyler, I take you to see the famous Barcelonean sunset and all you do is complain?"

"It's your own damn fault." She sits down and stretches her legs out in front of her. "Shouldn't have hyped up those dogs, yeah?"

He makes an amused noise in the back of his throat and plops down on his back. "We'll take a stroll into town after sunset, how's that? Maybe grab something to eat as well."

"Are there dogs in town?"

"I would assume so."

"Brilliant. It's a date."

She bites her lip at the slip and waits for him to make a joke or babble a mile a minute, but he stays silent, eyes locked at the horizon. So, she shrugs and, in silence, they watch the setting sun paint the sky purple and pink before dipping into the glittering ocean. Rose draws in a deep breath and exhales with a hum.

"That was gorgeous. Really, properly gorgeous," she says and pushes herself up to stand. "Ready to go?"

"Ehm," he swallows and sits up, knees bent, "Rose?"

The vulnerability in his tone makes her sit back down. "Yeah?"

"Are you happy?"

"Yeah," she nudges him with her shoulder, "'course I am."

"Are you, though?"

"Yes."

"Nothing you'd wanna change?" He shrugs and tugs down the corners of his mouth.

"Well," she smiles, "there's one thing I've been thinking about. Especially lately. One thing that would make it all just a little bit better."

"Yeah?"

"Mm. Something I've been missing for, oh, dunno, forever, really."

He looks at her, eyes wide. "All this time?"

"Yeah. Or, I mean, it's not like I don't like our life as it is. I do! I love it. I don't need that, Doctor. I really don't."

"Oh," he says, directing his eyes at his feet.

"I mean," she bites on her thumbnail, "unless you want it, too."

"I–" He nods. "I do. I'm ready."

"Yeah?" She grins. "Finally gonna have some fun in the evenings, yeah?"

He gapes at her, jaw slack.

"What's with the face?

"Erhm, nothing?"

"You're so weird sometimes, you are. Ready now, then? Do they have Indian or something? Could do with a curry."

"What, you wanna go now? I thought…" He frowns, bottom lip jutting out the slightest bit and head hanging.

"Doctor, we don't need to go buy a telly straight away, do we? Can at least eat first? I'm starving."

His head shoots up and he stares at her with furrowed brow. "What?"

"Oh, whatever. We'll buy the telly first, then. But you better show me some bloody dogs with no noses or I'll force you to watch _Strictly Come Dancing_ all night."

The Doctor bursts out laughing.

"What? What's so funny?"

He breathes out and forces the smile off his face. "I wasn't talking about TV, Rose."

"Then wha–" Her face heats up, eyes growing round and heart racing in her chest. "Oh. Oh! Really?"

He shrugs.

"Really?"

"If you want."

Her lips curve into a soft smile and she brushes her fingers over the back of his hand. "Yeah."

"Yeah?"

She nods, smile growing.

"So, ehm, can I…?" He lifts his hand, almost cupping her cheek, and looks into her eyes. She barely remembers how to breathe. But then he pulls back and smirks. "Or do you still want to eat first?"

A breathy chuckle escapes her. "No."

"Good." He cradles her face in his head and moves in so slowly her nerves get the better of her and she can't help but giggle. He stops, sighs. "Rose?"

"Sorry. I– Sorry. It's just– It's a little weird. Talking about it. Can't you just, dunno, surprise me?"

"Surprise you?"

"Yeah. Dunno," her blush returns and she ducks her head, "I've not kissed anyone in ages. Feel all nervous now. And we're talking about it and it's this big thing and–" She tosses her head back and looks up at him. "You know what I–"

He silences her by pressing his lips to hers, hand returning to cup her cheek. She gasps and can barely hold back a noise of disappointment when he moves back instantly, searching her eyes.

"Good surprise?" he asks with a faint smile.

"Oh, dunno." She grins. "Was rather on the chaste side, don't you reckon?"

His smile widens until he's beaming. "Are you telling me you'd prefer something not so chaste?"

She laughs and, grabbing his lapels, tugs him with her as she lies down on her back.

"Let me show you how it's really done, Doctor," she whispers and captures his lips, deepening the kiss when he's the one gasping.

* * *

**.**

* * *

The TARDIS groans into solid form in Jackie's living room a week later. She turns down the volume on the telly and stands up, smoothing out her top and skirt and running a hand through her hair. Rose has called with regularity and kept her mother updated on her recovery, but right now, it does little to comfort Jackie. The memory of the dejected, dirty Doctor staggering out of the TARDIS forces itself to the forefront of her mind, causing dread to curl around her racing heart. The seconds drag on before the door moves, but when Rose steps outside, eyes sparkling and cheeks rounded from a beaming smile, Jackie feels the tension leaving her body and a smile of her own spreading on her face. She holds out her arms and Rose flings herself into Jackie's embrace, squeezing her tight, then pulls back and takes out a green porcelain figurine with eight arms and a snout from the pocket of her hoodie.

"This is for you. It's a, uhm–" Rose looks over her shoulder at the Doctor, who walks out of the TARDIS with the most innocent expression on his face anyone could possibly muster, and Jackie narrows her eyes at him. "What's it called?"

"A Splurgian," he says, looking anywhere but at Jackie. "It brings riches to your home. Or," he tugs at his ear with one hand, gesturing with the other, "at least, that's what they believe on Pindori Seven."

"I see."

Jackie puts her hands on her hips, positions herself in the Doctor's line of sight and bores her eyes into him. His widen, cheeks turning pink, and it's all the confirmation she needs. She laughs and pulls him in for a hug – even kisses him a few times for good measure – and plucks her gift from Rose's hand, placing the green alien thing on the mantelpiece along with the rest of her trinkets.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Jackie says and, putting her arms around her daughter and her daughter's boyfriend, ushers them into the kitchen to make them a nice cup of tea and listen to the tales of their latest adventures.

* * *

**the end**


End file.
